The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly
by muchbeddled
Summary: Takes place near the end of Season Two, when Marian, secretly pregnant with Robin's child, travels as a prisoner to the Holy Land with the sheriff and Gisbourne.
1. Chapter 1

_No, no, no...not again._

Overcome by nausea, Marian leaned over a foul smelling bucket already half full and vomited.

_That's better._

Weakened, her face was beaded in a cold sweat, but she felt better. Chained at her wrists and ankles to an iron ring on the ship's floor, she leaned her back against the wall and let her mind race.

The bucket had been a "gift" from Guy, even if he never thought of ordering its foul contents dumped into the sea. On one of his first visits down the ladder to the ship's hull where she was being held prisoner, he'd been alarmed to find her lovely green dress drenched in her own vomit.

_"Seasick," he'd judged incorrectly, having no idea she was secretly carrying Robin's child and suffering severe bouts of morning sickness. "I'll send someone to clean you up."_

_"Who?" she accused, angrily. "One of the sailors who comes down here regularly to leer at me? I'm the only woman on board this ship."_

_"Who leers at you? I will kill them!"_

_"Yes, Guy, since you defend me so well, allowing me to be chained in the hull, with the ship's cargo and the rats."_

_"Marian, I do not approve of the way the sheriff is treating you."_

_"Yet you allow it. I'm sure you'll shed a tear, too, when he finally decides to execute me."_

_That thought seemed too horrible for Gisbourne to bear. Surprising Marian, he dropped to his knees beside her and began gently wiping her vomit-crusted bodice with his own handkerchief. _

_"I won't let him kill you," he tenderly promised her. "I didn't before, when you were going to hang for being the Nightwatchman. I devised a plan to save you then, and I will again, Marian. Have I not told you that I...I love you?"_

_Marian knew that it had really been Allan who had come up with the plan to wear her Nightwatchman disguise and fool the sheriff. She could almost hear him selling "Giz" on the idea. _

_Allan! What had become of him? Had he somehow managed to save Robin, as she fervently hoped and prayed? Or had she sent him into a trap, where he'd met his death?_

_"You say you love me," she said to Guy, accusingly, "so why did you tell the sheriff I was the Nightwatchman? It was unnecessary. You saved me one day, only to expose me the next."_

_"I had to tell him! He is my pathway to power and position. You're just a woman and cannot understand. But I swear to you, Marian, I will protect you."_

_Marian had no other answer than to roll her eyes. _

_Guy had taken credit for her rescue to "win" her, going so far as to risk the sheriff's anger by claiming, "I gave the order." She had been grateful to him then for saving her life, forgiving him for all of his crimes, believing once again that there was good in him and that she could turn him from evil. _

_Until now._

_Now, Guy was on a journey to kill the King. And even more terrible in Marian's eyes, he was rejoicing in the likely probability of Robin's death. Those were two crimes that she would never forgive._

_The thought of Robin dead drained Marian of all hope, all happiness, all energy. Yet she couldn't give up fighting, not while Robin's child lived and grew within her. _

_"I will protect you," she thought lovingly to their unborn baby. "Whatever it takes, I will keep you safe. You will have a good, happy life."_

_Looking Gisbourne squarely in the face, she tried to look grateful while telling him, "Thank you."_

_Her beauty, as well as her proximity, proved too much for Guy. Despite the wretched state of her gown, he felt his body begin to burn, as all of his yearnings gathered in one place, straining against the leather of his trousers. His black gloved hands, wiping at her bodice, grew bold and caressing._

_"Guy, no!" _

_Thankfully, he stopped._

_"I'm sorry," he said awkwardly, standing up. "That was inappropriate. But, perhaps, when all this is over and my position is secure, you will agree to become my wife."_

_"Do not kill the king," Marian urged him._

_"I'll send down some food," he said, ignoring her demand. "And a...a bucket in case you're sick again." _

_"Do not kill him, Guy," she repeated, even as Gisbourne climbed the ladder away from her to escape her words. _

_Fresh sea air and sunlight streamed into the hull when Gisbourne lifted the opening, but its loveliness was all too brief, for he slammed the trap door shut again, leaving her alone in the stuffiness and the dark._

_Well, not quite alone. Already, Marian could hear the rats scratching as they scurried about, searching for food. _

_They did not distress her, not nearly so much as the great balding black-clad rat above, the mastermind of the plots that had killed her beloved, and now meant to kill the king. _

_The sheriff! He was the one who needed to die. __She had failed in her attempt to kill him using Allan's sword, and now, she was chained and weaponless. _

_But not helpless. Somehow, she would convince Guy to do the deed for her. _

_She closed her eyes, shuddering at the fresh memory of his hot hands groping her body. As if to push him away, she laid her own hands on her belly, then caught her breath, feeling its gentle swell. _

_"You're growing," she whispered, awestruck. _

_The beauty of the moment soon turned to dread, when she realized what a short span of time she had, before Guy would guess the truth. _

_And suddenly, she knew exactly what she needed to do. _

_Promise Guy her hand, to convince him to kill the sheriff. Marry him to save the king, save England, save herself and Robin's child. She would deceive Guy into believing the baby was his, and then, Robin's son, for she somehow knew in her heart that the child was a boy, would one day inherit what was rightfully his...Locksley._

_"I'm sorry," she told the man she would forever love, as tears spilled from her eyes. "It's not what I want to do, but what I have to." _


	2. Chapter 2

"Will that be all, or is there anything else...anything at all...such a lovely gent as yourself desires? We've lovely, warm beds upstairs, if you're planning on spending the night. Or, if you'd like, I'd be more than willing to make an exception, just for you, Handsome, and accommodate you by the hour...starting now."

The attractive, buxom serving wench in the Blue Anchor Tavern in Portsmouth's Oyster Street couldn't have been any more obvious, Allan was thinking, if she'd thrown herself onto Robin's lap, lifted her skirts above her hips, and started grinding. Allan was interested in what the wench was selling, but Robin didn't appear to notice.

"You see?" Much exclaimed indignantly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand after taking a huge bite of pork. "You see what I have to put up with, every time we travel?"

"That will be all, thank you," Robin told the girl, in a polite yet curt manner, before turning his full attention upon the captain of the Trinity, a ship docked in the Camber, ready to set sail for the Holy Land.

"My men and I need passage on board your ship," he told the captain, sincerely. "It's critical that we sail with you as soon as possible. The future of England is at stake."

_Not to mention the life of the woman I love, _he couldn't help thinking, concerned every moment for Marian.

"I could use some rest first," Allan laughed, grabbing the serving wench around her waist, showing off to impress Little John. "How much you say you charge by the hour?"

"The offer's not open to you," the girl stated rudely, shaking him off. "Only to him."

Allan felt the hot color rush to his cheeks, as he watched the girl flounce away. Ugly resentment welled up within him.

_You're always in the sun, Robin, and I'm always in the shade. Not much has changed since you exposed me as a spy and kicked me out of the gang, has it? And Giz promised me a lordship._

For a moment, Allan regretted returning to the gang. But only for a moment.

It felt so good to be back. He'd missed the lads, their camaraderie and their deep, true friendship, more than he'd admitted. A load had been lifted off his shoulders, making him feel happy and free again, even in the urgency of their mission. And Robin, after all, wasn't asking for the wench's attention. Allan couldn't blame him just because he'd been blessed with a face and form that pleased the ladies.

There was one thing within the gang that _had_ changed since he'd been away, though, Allan realized. Will and Djaq were definitely acting like a couple. Earlier, when the gang had first sat down at The Blue Anchor, Allan had caught them holding hands under the table. And now, they were walking together by the docks, arm in arm, gazing out at the sea.

While Robin negotiated with the captain and Much stuffed his face, Allan asked Little John, "Not bein' funny or anything, but when did Will and Djaq get so close? I mean, I know he always fancied her, but-"

"Him, she loves," Little John interrupted.

"Loves? Lucky beggar! I always thought Will was too shy to even try with her. When did it happen? Have they ever...? You know."

Little John, in the past always ready to roar with laughter at Allan's ribald jokes, could only growl out a warning when the talk involved Djaq.

"Alright, alright!" Allan exclaimed, throwing up his hands. "Judging from the look of them together, I'll wager they've barely even kissed."

"There's going to be a wedding in the Holy Land," Much announced, butting into the conversation. "Well, I mean, after we save the King. And Marian. You don't think there will be two weddings, do you?"

Allan could only shrug his shoulders. He alone among the gang had not been told that Robin and Marian were engaged, but in some ways, he knew more than the others. He knew that Marian was expecting a baby, having guessed the truth when her moods began soaring up and down.

Robin, everyone noticed, was smiling, thanking the captain and shaking his hand.

"Good news, lads," he told them. "We set sail tonight."

...

Allan had never been on a ship before, and he found the experience bracing. Exhausted from having ridden most of the previous night to save the gang, and after that, making record time riding to the coast, he was nevertheless too wound up to sleep. Glad not to have a horse under him, he walked the deck, enjoying the novelty of sea travel with its constant rise and fall of the waves.

He felt some trepidation when he thought about the journey's end. He'd be face to face with Giz again, and the sheriff, and they'd know he had betrayed them.

_"The worst sin a man can commit is betrayal,"_ Guy had once told him, never minding that he had forced Allan to betray his friends. _"And the worst sin deserves the very worst punishment."_

Allan shuddered, almost hearing Guy's cruel, threatening voice. Looking up, he was relieved to find Robin standing beside him.

"Can't sleep, either?" Robin asked, in a friendly manner. "You know, Allan, if I haven't thanked you yet for saving us..."

"Aw, it was way past time I came to my senses. Marian tried to, you know, covert me, but I wouldn't listen."

Robin didn't speak for awhile. Just hearing Marian's name had moved him. But it had also opened up the topic he longed to discuss.

"She told me all the times you helped her, Allan...helped us. Thank you again." And then, in a more urgent tone, "What happened to her? Why has the sheriff taken her with him?"

Allan knew the news would be hard for Robin to hear, but there was nothing to do but spill it. "She tried to kill him."

"WHAT?"

"Yeah. You know her. Found out he was goin' to Portsmouth, guessed it was to kill the king, couldn't find you, so she knocked me out, took my sword, and tried to, well, I already told you. The sheriff saw her coming and overpowered her. I'd of done the same if I knew she was planning on punching me."

Robin didn't speak but his breath grew labored. The look on his face clearly showed his concern, his emotion toward what he'd just learned.

Allan wiped some sea spray off his face and continued. "And then, when things for her couldn't seem to get any worse, Guy spilled the beans that she was the Nightwatchman-"

"WHAT?"

"The Nightwatchman. Guy told the sheriff."

The ship couldn't sail fast enough for Robin. He was growing more and more alarmed for Marian's safety.

"Then she's..." he began, only to interrupt his own thoughts when he grasped Allan's words. "GISBOURNE KNOWS?"

"Yeah. I thought you knew. I mean, you said Marian told you all the times I helped her. I just assumed that included the time Guy caught her dressed up as the Nightwatchman, and we just barely helped her escape hanging."

It was all too much for Robin. He held onto the ship's rail, his eyes wide and staring into the waves. "Tell me everything," he ordered.


	3. Chapter 3

In spite of it being the first of November, the Acre sun was unforgiving, beating down on Guy of Gisbourne as he stalked through the foreign marketplace with its unfamiliar sounds and smells.

"Get out of my way!" he shouted, angrily pushing aside an elderly Saracen man leading a goat.

Guy was tired, having spent his energy on a black-eyed, dusky-skinned, sandalwood-scented whore in one of Acre's notorious "houses of pleasure." His energy, yes, he thought grimly, but not his money. His sword had seen to that, when the whore demanded payment.

His money, the little bit that he carried on him, would go toward buying a pretty trinket for Marian today. Sneeringly, he scanned the busy market, searching for something that might please her.

He was glad that he had already bought her fine, white cloth, which a servant had fashioned for her into a native costume. Marian needed something to wear, after getting sick on her gown onboard ship. And white was perfect for her, highlighting her purity and her beauty, so different from the whore had who serviced him today.

Guy did not make it a habit to visit brothels. At home, one order from his lips would send his men scrambling to seize whatever woman he ordered them to bring him, whenever his urges bothered him. But of course, his men were not here to do his bidding.

Not even Allan, who had deserted him.

_I thought you were loyal to me. What happened, Allan? Lose your nerve, like the sheriff said?_

Allan's unexpected desertion rankled, but Guy tried to forget it. There was too much at stake now.

He told himself he mustn't visit a whore house again while here. He needed all his energy, all his focus, on the sheriff's mission. He'd only gone today because he was frustrated...angry when the sheriff excluded him from meeting with Nassir, a Saracen the sheriff recruited to help them kill King Richard. And of course, frustrated at having to wait for Marian.

Guy would not admit, even to himself, that he rather liked having Marian chained in the sheriff's house. Her being there let him know, every moment of every day, exactly where she was. It made him feel secure, knowing she couldn't leave. She'd always been so elusive before, disappearing when he wanted her, even when she was supposed to be a prisoner in the castle. And of course, she'd proven that she couldn't be trusted.

The Nightwatchman! Even now, Guy could scarcely believe it. Without knowing it, he had once cut her arm, and another time, just before the marriage from which she'd fled, he'd wounded her, almost fatally! How could he have known? And how could she have deceived him...stolen his wealth, wealth that he'd been longing to share with her!

Worse yet, who was it who had come to her rescue that horrible night in Locksley...?

_Robin Hood._

Just the thought of that name made Guy's blood boil.

Hood had been betrothed to Marian, years before. And recently, though an outlaw, Hood still carried a torch for her. But what about Marian? Were Hood and Marian still...? Guy needed to know what he'd asked Allan at the Road to Portsmouth Inn. Allan's, "Look, even if they are, he's finished now," wasn't an answer!

Hood was dead, yes! Guy was sure of it. And yet, without actually seeing his corpse, Guy lacked closure. And with Allan gone, no one could give Guy the information he needed.

No one, perhaps, unless...

Marian! He would force her to tell him the truth, if there was any truth in her.

Forgetting that he'd come to buy her a gift, Gisbourne left the marketplace, hurrying to the sheriff's house.


	4. Chapter 4

Chained and alone in the basement of the sheriff's house in Acre, Marian had a lot of time to think.

Mostly, she concentrated her thoughts on what she might say to Guy, to convince him to kill the sheriff and spare the king. Forcing herself to stay strong for the sake of her unborn child..._Robin's_ child, she refused to think about what her life would be like married to Guy. Instead, she pictured the future of her little boy, a copy of his handsome father, growing up in Locksley.

_I'll teach you myself to how to ride and to shoot, and to care for the poor. And every night, I'll tuck you into his childhood bed and tell you stories, all about him. Your room will be the one he used as a child, the room with the tapestry his mother wove, of the tree filled with birds. The robin and the wren. _

But thinking such bittersweet sentiments made Marian unutterably sad.

_Robin, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasted so much time being angry, when we could have been so happy. I never stopped loving you, and I never will; I was just-_

Marian's doleful thoughts were cut short by the sound of heavy footsteps, accompanied by jingling spurs, slowly descending the steps toward her room.

Guy! Immediately she composed herself, smoothed her hair, and rose from her bed to greet him.

"Guy! Tell me what is happening. Has the sheriff found the king? You must stop him! It is treason, Guy, treason and murder, and such crimes will not go unpunished."

Guy, looming in her doorway, did not respond other than to stare at her with burning, searching eyes...eyes that made her stomach twist in knots.

"You are a good man, Guy, and not a killer."

She knew her words were lies, meant only to persuade him. Of course he was a killer. She'd watched him kill before, kill with grim satisfaction and a conqueror's pride in victory. Yet she'd also known him, on rare occasions, to treat her gently, and it was toward that side of him she so desperately tried to appeal.

His eyes, still burning, hardened, while his face took on its most ugly sneer.

"I should have guessed," he snarled, sinisterly. "I should have known who you are, the first time I saw you carrying a basket of apples."

Slowly, menacingly, he entered her room, walking toward her, but she bravely held his stare.

"Apples? Guy, what do you mean?"

He laughed, a low, mocking chuckle.

"Eve with her apple, tempting Adam."

"I am not tempting you, Guy, I'm trying to help you! If anyone is to blame, it's the sheriff! He's the one who's tempting you, with promises of power and position, to perform the worst possible sin a man can commit. Don't do it, Guy. Stop him before he harms the king."

"How many times did I see you, with a basket of fruit under your arm? Heading to the stables, to give the horses a treat. Aww. Or, another time, snooping around, claiming you wanted to offer the sheriff's guest some 'local fruit'. Eve...the temptress. Throwing me off the scent with your smiles. What were you really doing, that night in Nottingham?"

"What night, Guy?"

She wasn't frightened, only angry. She remembered the night he spoke of, when the sheriff was entertaining a Saracen prince, but wisely thought it safer to play ignorant.

"You wanted to know who the sheriff was entertaining," he continued, spitefully. "Admit it! You wanted to know, so you could pass the information to my enemy!"

Marian dropped her jaw, playing at being surprised and indignant. Guy couldn't know the real role she'd played the past two years, spying for Robin, no matter how greatly she wanted to throw the truth in his face. Just as she'd lied in the past to protect herself and her father, she would lie now, to protect Robin's baby.

"How dare you?" she accused. "You've never trusted me, Guy, though I've proven myself again and again. Remember the necklace? You were ready to have me killed, when I'd done nothing! Is that what you want now? You should have finished me when you learned I was the Nightwatchman. Why didn't you?"

She hated lying, even to him, but she was fighting for her life, and the life of her child. Not to mention England, if she could only get through to Gisbourne.

"The necklace," he pondered, ominously, ignoring her reference to the Nightwatchman. "I've always wondered how you managed to hold it in your hand, after first knocking apart your room, trying to make it look like a robbery. How did you manage to pull off that little scheme of yours, Eve?"

"Stop calling me names."

"HOW DID YOU DO IT?"

"Stop shouting."

"STOP LYING! I WANT THE TRUTH!"

Seizing her by her shoulders, he threw her to the ground, then stood panting over her.

She was hurt, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing it. Instead, she accused, "And you claim to love me!"

"And who do you love? Robin Hood? A common outlaw? A DEAD outlaw!"

"I despise Robin Hood."

Her voice sounded small, and tears welled up in her eyes. This was the worst lie of all, she realized, yet she felt she had no choice but to say it. Her heart broken, she dropped her head, sobbing.

_Dead, dead, you're dead! Then let me die, too! I want to, but no, I can't! I have to keep fighting!_

Gisbourne seemed struck dumb by her tears. Moved, he repented his abuse toward her, denying all he guessed, and believing what he chose to.

"Marian," he breathed, bewildered, lifting her up to him. "I'm sorry, but I have to know! Tell me now, tell me! Do you care for me?"

Scarcely able to see through her tears, Marian looked him in the eye and lied, "Yes. I care."


	5. Chapter 5

"Who killed Cock Robin? 'I,' said the sheriff, with my little army of mercenaries!"

Prancing down the stairs to Marian's room in his basement, Sheriff Vaisey triumphantly laughed, changing only a few words of the popular nursery rhyme he was reciting.*

Hearing him coming, an unsatisfied Guy quickly released Marian.

The sheriff's timing couldn't have been worse, in Guy's mind. A chained and trembling Marian stood before him, made even more beautiful by the tears in her eyes, and by her confession that she cared for him. Guy was breathing heavily, anticipating the kisses that should have followed her confession. But the sheriff's arrival put a stop to his heated hopes.

Still, the sheriff's sentiment was good. The reminder that Hood was dead brought a sneering smile to Guy's lips.

"Don't smile, Gisbourne," the sheriff ordered, snidely. "It's not a good look for you. Oh! Did I interrupt something? You and your leper friend having a little chat? Or something warm and spicier?"

"A chat, nothing more," Gisbourne answered, feeling superior and protective.

The sheriff, amused, clearly did not believe him.

"A chat! Oooh! Do you know, Gisbourne, hmm, I'm rather going to miss _my _little chats with Cock Robin! Hood always had such a clever little tongue in his pretty little head! Unlike Guy here, Missy, hmm?, who can barely string two sentences together! But then, you're not interested in him for conversation's sake, are you, Missy?"

"How long do you plan to keep me chained down here?" Marian demanded.

"Patience!" the sheriff mocked. "But back to what _I_ was saying! Do you know, Missy, hmm, I remember like it was yesterday, the first time I laid eyes on Locksley! Oh, yes! He looked so delicious-I mean, audacious, strutting into my Council of Nobles, flaunting my authority! I'm growing quite sentimental thinking about it. A clue...no."

Marian found herself fighting back fresh tears, remembering that day, with Robin newly returned from war.

_I called you a fool, when I thought you a hero. I should have told you how impressed I was, at your courage and your command. Oh, Robin, why did it have to end so horribly?_

She could feel the sheriff's sharp little eyes studying her, and she held herself together, refusing to let him see her cry.

"It wasn't the first time _Guy_ laid eyes on him," Vaisey continued, waiting for her reaction. "Oh, no! They'd met before...once at Locksley, and before that, not far from here! Isn't that right, Gizzy?"

"You wounded him," Marian said to Guy, trying not to sound accusing, while remembering the sight and feel of the ugly scar in Robin's side...the scar that never failed to move her to pity.

"He meant to kill him, but he failed!" the sheriff responded. "Just as he meant to kill the king! But no matter! Hood's dead now, and it won't be long, will it, Gisbourne, until the king follows! Oh, yes! Everything I've planned is falling into place at last!"

"You are committing treason," Marian warned.

"Well, la dee dah dee dah! Do I care? A clue...no. Come on, Gisbourne, hmm, let's leave your leper friend alone. I need to fill you in on all the latest details of my marvelous new plan."

Marian tried to catch Guy's glance before he left, and communicate with a look her plea to spare King Richard. But Guy didn't even look her direction.

She would have to wait until he visited her again, to try to stop him.

She wished there could be another way, than to offer him her hand. But she couldn't think of anything she could suggest that he would want more that would convince him to kill the sheriff.

She didn't cry, once she was alone again, even when thinking about Robin's death. She just felt numb, and empty.

But, she reminded herself, she wasn't empty. Far from it. Robin's precious child lived within her, and she renewed her vow to do whatever it took to protect him, and to protect the king.

Straining her ears, she tried her best to make out the muffled conversation she could barely hear taking place above her.

*(Note: The sheriff's opening lines are taken from an old nursery rhyme that begins "Who killed Cock Robin? I said the sparrow with my little bow and arrow." According to a website explaining UK nursery rhymes, it refers to the death of Robin Hood.)


	6. Chapter 6

The ship rocked gently up and down, lit by a glowing moon in a sky sprinkled with stars, yet Robin appreciated none of it. Calm winds meant smooth, but not quick sailing, and he needed the ship to move faster.

Lives depended on it...lives more precious to him than his own.

"Master?" Much's familiar, anxious voice inquired. "What are you doing still up? Shouldn't you come to bed?"

"I can't sleep," Robin answered, simply. "Anyway, you're up, too."

"That's because you are."

There was a pause, and then Much, who couldn't stand silence, continued, "Allan's finally sleeping. He's been up nearly two nights in a row!"

"Let him sleep as long as he needs," Robin counseled. "He's earned it."

"Funny, him coming back when he did! Not that I'm complaining, however much you think I do! I only mean, well, he's back, and it feels like he was never away! Does it feel that way to you, because it feels that way to me!"

Robin, staring out to sea, only nodded.

Another silence, welcome to Robin but uncomfortable to Much, was cut short by Much saying, "What _doesn't_ feel the same is us, on board ship again! This feels nothing like the first time we sailed to the Holy Land! Then, we were honored companions of the King! We had no idea what horrors lay ahead! Do you remember stopping in Sicily? You saved Princess Johanna there. And now...now we're going to save the King!"

"And Marian."

"Marian...yes, of course! Why do you think the sheriff brought her along?"

Robin, who'd been unable to think of little else ever since Allan had told him the truth, breathed a deep, troubled sigh before answering. "He found out she was the Nightwatchman, Much."

"The Night-! No! Unbelievable! How did he...? How did he know?"

"Gisbourne told him."

"Gisbourne...? How did he...how did _he_ know?"

"According to Allan, he caught her, trying to feed the people of Locksley. It was the day we were rescuing Queen Eleanor."

"Unbelievable! That was...that was months ago! Summer! Why isn't she...you know!"

"Why isn't she dead? For once, Much, we have Gisbourne to thank, as well as Allan. And I believe, right now, we owe Gisbourne our gratitude again, for her life."

"What do you mean?"

"We don't have much time, until the sheriff 'punishes' her. I believe he's only keeping her alive, as a way to get Gisbourne to kill the King."

"Gisbourne tried to kill the King before, or so you said! What does Marian have to do with it now?"

"Think, Much! As much as I hate it, Gisbourne loves her. If the sheriff were to...were to kill her, he'd lose Gisbourne's support. The sheriff knows it, and so, he's keeping Marian with him, probably as a 'carrot' in front of Gisbourne's nose, to get him to do his dirty work."

"Unbelievable! Still, I'm glad! I mean, it's saved her life! At least, I hope it's saved her life! We don't know what's really happened-"

"It's bought her time. That, we _have_ to believe."

There was another pause, while Much soaked in Robin's meaning. Then, filled with fresh worries, Much asked, "And once the King's dead, what then? Do you think the sheriff will kill her, Robin?"

"We won't let it come to that. We're going to _save_ the King, remember?"

"Oh, that's right! I nearly forgot! You sound confident."

"I have to be."

So saying, Robin looked at Much. Much was struck by the slight trace of tears in his friend's eyes.

"You're...you're worried about Marian, aren't you?"

"She can't die, Much. She can't."

"We'll save her. You said yourself...!"

Much didn't think how their roles had suddenly flipped, but he was reminded of something Robin had confessed to him in the barn, in Nettlestone. "Master," he began, changing the subject, "what did you mean in the barn, when you said that I was stronger than you? I'm not, you know."

"You are. You've always been stronger, Much, though I never knew it until we went to war."

"But you're...you're _Robin! _I'm only...I'm only Much."

"Never say 'only' before your name. You're...you're my best friend. Why do you think I picked you, to go with me the day the sheriff was missing?"

"I don't know. I was glad you did! It seemed like old times...you and I on a mission together! And that day proves you're stronger! You sought out the sheriff, while I talked on and on about becoming the Sherwood Avenger!"

"I needed you with me that day. I didn't know how it would end, and I needed you beside me to see me through."

Much felt honored, but he still couldn't understand. "I didn't though. I mean, I remember falling down in the forest, and you had to pick me up!"

"You are braver than you know."

"Thank you! It's nice to hear! It all did end well, that day, didn't it?"

Robin, smiling at last, nodded. "You go on to bed, Much," he said. "I'll be along shortly."

He wanted a few moments more alone, before heading below deck to his berth, to think about Marian.

That day had indeed ended well, more beautifully than he ever could have imagined, for that evening, shaken from having everything nearly end, Marian had first given herself, body and soul, to him.

"Hold on, my love," Robin breathed to her, over the waves, thinking of herself and their child. "I'm coming."


	7. Chapter 7

Guy felt ridiculous. Unlike the sheriff, he did not relish wearing the disguise of a Saracen.

His get-up for their crucial, secret mission tonight was similar to one he'd worn years before, in his failed attempt to kill the king. Failed, he remembered bitterly, all due to one man.

_Robin of Locksley...Robin Hood._

His hated, hated enemy.

But, Guy remembered, breathing a venomous sigh, Hood could not stop him now.

Now, at last, the archer was dead, and Guy triumphed in the thought. And even though he had not seen Hood's body lying lifeless on the ground, he enjoyed picturing it in his mind. Hood, with a look of agony on his once smug face, his quiver empty, his Saracen weapons useless, lying stiff and motionless in the mud, unable to move, unable to breathe, his despicable body covered in its own dried blood, his mouth gaping open in a death scream, his eyes pecked out by scavenging birds. And stretched out all around him, his wretched little gang of outlaws, also dead. The thought was sweet!

"My friend and I have come for just one thing...one thing only." The sheriff's voice was oily as he addressed Saladin's messenger, the man whom Gisbourne threatened at swordpoint. "And you won't give it to me! Well then, perhaps, with the right persuasion, you'll tell me where it is."

The sheriff, once inside the messenger's room, had removed the scarf covering the lower half of his face, but Guy wore his still. Ridiculous as he felt wearing a disguise, he had to admit, he liked the protection of having his face hidden, with only his eyes to betray his identity.

_Just like the Nightwatchman._

_Marian!_

How could she have betrayed him for so long...she, who professed to care for him? That thought haunted Guy, baffled and bewildered him, as well as making him furious.

In her disguise, she had _robbed _him of his wealth, wealth he was planning to share with her, on the eve of their wedding! Wealth he had yet to recover! Time and time again, she had thwarted his work, defied all the sheriff's schemes! Once, she had even helped Hood escape!

Guy had forgotten that, when he last confronted her about her crimes as the Nightwatchman. But now, as he tickled the throat of Saladin's messenger with the tip of his sword, he remembered.

Hood, surrounded by the Black Knights, had been helpless, bound and strung up over a pit of slithering vipers. Guy had just finished beating him with the outlaw's own bow, demanding to know, "Who is the Nightwatchman?"

_"I don't know, Gisbourne! But I know I'll kiss him when I see him, for stealing from you, and showing it's not just me. You see, there are people like me and the Nightwatchman all over England who will stand up for justice."_

_People like me and the Nightwatchman! Kiss him when I see him...!_

What had Hood meant? Had he known her identity, and was he mocking Guy with his "kiss" remark? How closely were they working together? How closely were they...?

Beneath his facial scarf, Guy snarled a angry roar of frustration, then couldn't resist slicing the Saracen's throat. A shallow slice...just enough to sting, and spill a few drops of blood.

"Very good!" the sheriff crowed, relishing the sight of blood beading at the cut. "Just like a ruby necklace! Now, my Saracen friend, are you ready to talk? All I want to know is, where is Saladin's Royal Seal?"

"I will not tell you," the messenger croaked. "You will have to kill me."

"Oh, such courage! I'm impressed! A clue...no! You see, if I kill you, hmm, I still won't have what I came for! Saladin's Royal Seal! And you see, I want it very much. So, let's see how well you'll talk, when I try this on you!"

Gisbourne sneered when he saw the sheriff pull a metal instrument of torture from beneath his flowing Saracen robe.

"A particularly nasty little tool, but it should serve my purpose! Open wide, look inside!"

Sheriff Vaisey laughed as he shoved a gag down the man's throat, forcing him to keep his mouth wide open.

"You may think _this_ shiny object," the sheriff gloated, displaying the torture instrument before the man's frightened gaze, "is what caused me to lose my tooth! A clue...no. I lost mine from an arrow, shot by a now dead, but very worthy foe! Oh, yes! You see, I had a tiger's tooth necklace of his, and I wouldn't give it back! So he promised me that one day he would take a tooth of mine! 'An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth...' all that goobly gook! And life is usually so much fairer! You see, I'd still have my tooth, if I had only listened, and given him back his necklace! Now, _you_ can still keep _your_ teeth, if you tell me what I want to know. No? Well then..."

The man's screams were music to Guy's ears. One by one, the sheriff yanked teeth from the messenger's bloody gums, until the Saracen signaled that he could stand the pain no longer.

Reaching into the messenger's mouth, the sheriff pulled out the blood soaked gag, flung it aside, then wiped his fingers on Gisbourne's sleeve.

"It is here!" the Saracen sputtered, spitting out blood. "The Royal Seal! Take it!"

"I knew you'd see reason!" The sheriff could barely contain his excitement, unwrapping linen from a heavy round seal. "Very good! And now, one more thing. A trifle, really. What is the password?"

The messenger shook his head, causing the sheriff to click his tongue.

"Oh, dear! You notice, I did not take all your teeth. Generous, you think me? A clue...no. I left a few, in case you proved stubborn. Oh, well! I guess there's nothing left for me to do, but-"

Enjoying himself, the sheriff shoved the blood soaked gag back into the messenger's mouth, then resumed yanking out teeth. After only two, the messenger signaled he was ready again to talk.

"The password," he sputtered.

"Yes?"

"Your king says, 'I admire Aristotle.' "

"And the response?"

" 'I prefer Plato.' "

"Gisbourne!" the sheriff shouted. "It's ours! We have the Seal, and the password! Nothing can stop us now!"

"My lord, you spoke my name!" Guy protested. "You swore to me, my identity would remain a secret!"

"Have you not learned yet, Gisbourne, hmm, I do NOT make mistakes! I suppose, you'll just have to kill him, hmm, to protect your precious identity! Of course, that was my intention all along!"

Guy couldn't help but smile. Driving his sword through the man's liver and feeling him go limp in death somewhat helped assuage his anger and frustration toward Marian.

"Very good, Gisbourne!" the sheriff approved. Readjusting his scarf to cover his face, Vaisey patted the top of his turban, then patted Guy's buttocks, before venturing back onto the night streets of Acre.

"Balmy night for November, Gisbourne, hmm? Step One in my marvelous plan...accomplished! Care to celebrate back at my house, with a Turkish Bath? After all, you look so pretty in that dress! Didn't I tell you it would be better without Allan...when it's just us? Oh, yes! This is good! This is good!"


	8. Chapter 8

_Marian had not heard a sound, yet she knew he had come, even before she felt him slip into bed beside her and snuggle against her back._

_"Shh," his warm, beloved voice whispered. "Don't be alarmed. It's only me."_

_"Only!_"_ Quickly, Marian flipped onto her other side to face him, throwing herself into his arms and then pulling away, just so she could look at him. "Robin! The sheriff said you were dead!"_

_"Did he? It's hardly the first time he lied to you about that!" And then, in the softest, most tender of tones, he asked, "Do I look dead?"_

_"You look-" _

_He looked wonderful, and he certainly didn't_ feel_ dead. Radiantly happy, Marian pressed closer, digging her hands through his hair and kissing his warm, eager mouth. _

_"How did you find me?" she breathlessly asked, still not quite believing this miracle._

_Robin smiled, gazing adoringly at her in the way she so fondly remembered. "I just followed my heart," he answered._

_His words deliberately echoed those she'd once spoken to him in the forest, when he'd asked her how birds could travel thousands of miles and find their mates. Touched by the memory, she gasped, blinking back tears._

_When his rough, calloused thumb tenderly brushed a tear from her cheek, all her senses seemed to ignite. How could she have ever slapped that loving touch away? She'd been such a fool, trying to hate him when he'd first returned from war. But she was a fool no longer. They were together at last, united forever by a love deeper than the sea. _

_They were kissing, and she couldn't wait, so she pulled his brown leather jerkin over his head, and the light shirt underneath. And then she found herself laughing as they kissed, for his hands, always so expert when wielding a weapon or touching her, could only fumble at the laces on her clothes. _

_"Sorry," he laughed, sheepishly. "In my defense, this is a new outfit you're wearing."_

_She grew suddenly, unexplainedly shy. "I've gotten bigger," she told him, proud of her belly's new, gentle swell._

_Robin caught his breath, then lovingly laid his hand over her belly. "Well then, we'll need to hurry up the wedding."_

_"Say the words," another familiar voice instructed, as Marian suddenly found herself in a candlelit chapel. _

_Robin, dressed like a lord, stood beside her, holding both her hands, while a beaming Friar Tuck, her beloved family Confessor whom she hadn't seen in years, officiated at her wedding._

_"I, Robin, take you, Marian-"_

Marian's eyes snapped open when she heard the sheriff and Gisbourne return to the house.

No! It wasn't true! She'd been dreaming!

The joyous tears that had wetted her eyelashes now turned bitter, as her heart broke all over again.

But her determination, and her courage, wouldn't let her give way to grief.

Above her, the sheriff was talking, and she jumped out of bed and stood on tiptoe, trying to make out his words.

It was impossible. She couldn't hear what he was saying to Guy, but she knew that something had happened tonight that had thrilled him.

They couldn't have succeeded in killing the King, surely! No, she was sure that couldn't be it. But they'd managed something to move them further down that treasonous path!

She couldn't put her plan off any longer, as much as she hated it. The next time Guy came to see her, she would offer him her hand.

...

Much liked Corfu. He'd never landed on its island shores before, neither on his other journey to the the Holy Land, nor on his return home.

"Why not, Master?" he asked, sitting outdoors in a pleasant tavern with Robin, Little John, and Allan, killing time while the ship restocked its supplies of food and fresh water. "Why didn't we ever stop here before?"

Restless to be sailing forth again, Robin tried to not show it, and answered pleasantly, "Because, Much, it was dangerous before, with pirates prowling the coast."

"Pirates?" Allan asked, grinning. "You're joking."

"No, he's not," Much gloated. "I'll have you know, Robin and I fought against pirates somewhere close to here, on one of our sailings. It was on the way home before, wasn't it, Master?"

Nodding, Robin said with a grin, "No different from fighting sheriff's guards, other than the chance of drowning!"

Little John drained his cup, then laughed. He was enjoying the respite from walking on sea legs, and kept a protective, watchful on Will and Djaq, who strolled hand in hand nearby.

An exotic, dark-eyed serving wench brought more drinks, and Allan couldn't help feeling jealous at the way she was eyeing Robin. Still, he might have a chance with her, since Robin only had eyes for Marian. Providing there'd be enough time in port.

"How long you expect we're here for?" he asked.

_Too long, _Robin thought, while answering, "I don't know."

"Hands up all who haven't betrayed the gang," Much announced, proud of his latest joke.

"Not this again," Allan grumbled, good-naturedly. He wished Robin would put a stop to Much saying that, but Robin seemed too preoccupied to notice.

"I'm not bein' funny or anything, but you might tell Much enough is enough! I've said I'm sorry." When Robin, eyes staring eastward out to sea, didn't answer, Allan continued, "Look, I know you're worried about Marian. Especially since she's got a bun in the oven, but you might at least-"

Allan stopped mid sentence, for Robin, hearing him at last, pushed back his chair and was standing, staring down at him.

"What did you say?" he asked, his dangerous tone making the hairs on the back of Allan's neck stand straight up. "Watch it!"

"Unbelievable!" Much exploded. "All the time Marian was living in the gang, not once do I remember her offering to cook! Well, maybe once or twice, but not often! And you talk about her baking, now, when she's the sheriff's prisoner? Unbelievable! I hardly think she'll find the time to bake buns! Not that a bun wouldn't go amiss right now! Or some cake! I'd like that!"

"Shut up!" Little John ordered, taken unawares by Allan's news, as explosive as Greek Fire.

"What?" Allan asked Robin, nervously. "You didn't know?"

Sitting back down, Robin drew a deep breath, then quietly answered, "She told me. How did you know?"

"Told you what?" Much wanted to know. "I don't understand."

"I guessed," Allan answered. "I knew you two were..." realizing he needed to watch his words with Robin, he continued, "I knew you two were havin' fun, and when she started gettin' all weepy, and passin' out now and then, it was easy to guess the truth. Congratulations, I suppose. Knowin' you, I guess you're happy about it."

"Ecstatic."

"Happy about WHAT?" Much demanded.

"Shut up!" Little John warned, again.

"No, it's alright," Robin said, gently. "I should have told you sooner, Much, it's just, I wanted to wait until we were married first."

"Marian and you," Much said, trying to understand. "Of course you wanted to wait! Well, you didn't _want_ to, and you didn't, shame on you, Master, but you should have. But we've covered this before."

"Marian's...Marian's going to have a baby, Much."

It took Much a few moments to digest the news, and when he did, his eyes grew even wider than usual, and he dropped his cup.

"A baby!" he shouted, causing everyone within hearing range to gape at him. "Why that's...that's..."

"It's wonderful," Robin grinned, deeply moved at breaking the news to his friends.

"Yeah, well it won't be wonderful once she starts showing, and Giz catches on," Allan mused.

The serving wench, scowling at Much for having shattered his cup, brought more drinks on a tray, provocatively leaning over to display her cleavage to Robin.

Robin didn't even notice. Allan's words had voiced his worst nightmare.

Quickly slapping down enough coins to pay for their drinks, he rose and said, "I don't know why I didn't think of this before! Come on, lads! Who's with me to lend the sailors a hand, loading supplies? We have got to get out of here...now!"

Allan cast one last, longing glance at the serving wench. "I was kinda hopin'...I'm with you."

Little John answered by draining another cup and rising to his feet.

"I'm...I'm..." Much sputtered, still too overwhelmed by Robin's news to speak. finally, he was able to say, "Of course, I'm with you, Robin! Always! You'd sail the ship, if you could!"

"Don't give me any ideas."

The serving wench, disappointed, nonetheless had a gleam in her eye as she watched Robin run toward the ship. In no time at all, six Sherwood outlaws were helping the ship's crew lift and load supplies.


	9. Chapter 9

Descending the steps to the basement room where Marian was being held captive, Guy's footsteps were slow and heavy.

_Be careful,_ Marian cautioned herself. _He__ doesn't want to com_e.

Bracing herself to make the offer she dreaded making, Marian swallowed back her misgivings.

_"You don't have to do this."_

She could almost hear Robin's warm, loving voice repeat the words he'd said to her, when she'd been forced to dress up for Count Friedrich.

Had it only been months ago? It felt like ages. And what had she answered him?

_"England needs me."_

"And that is why I'm going to do this now," she whispered to Robin, as well as to herself, to boost her courage. "To save England, and protect our baby."

But no. Those weren't exactly the words she'd spoken to Robin that day in Nottingham's marketplace. Her cocky Robin had said that first. Her response had been, "England needs us."

But tragically, there was no "us" any more.

_"Who killed Cock Robin? Who killed Cock Robin? I, said the sheriff, with my little army of mercenaries."_

Now it was the sheriff's voice, lifted in mocking song, that she could almost hear.

_Am I going crazy? _

She hoped not. She'd heard of other captives, locked up alone for long stretches of time, losing their minds. Setting her chin, she vowed never to let it happen to her.

Grief was tearing her apart, that was all.

At last, she heard Gisbourne's steps stop, completing his slow descent to her room.

"Guy," she said, greeting him, not liking the agonized sneer of distrust on his face.

The man said nothing, only stood looming in the doorway, staring at her, his cold, steely blue eyes locked on her face.

"Has the sheriff been poisoning your mind against me?" she asked, preferring to have things out with him, rather than to wait and let him bait her.

Taking a threatening step into her room, he kicked a small stool, one of the few pieces of furniture provided for her, out of his way. The sound of its crash made her shudder, in spite of her courage.

"The sheriff didn't have to," he snarled, his voice low.

"You're angry at me, Guy. Why? Surely you know I've done nothing since we last talked."

"I've been thinking," he sneered at her. "Remembering all the times you lied to me."

"I have lied," she admitted, still meeting his eyes. "And I'm sorry that I had to deceive you. I've told you that. I thought we cleared this up. I thought we were...I thought we were friends."

"Friends. I hoped we were more than friends, Marian."

_Now is where the real deception must begin. This is the part I hate, Guy, more than you know, for even you do not deserve these false lies._

Never would she have expected herself to be a woman to marry a man, and try to pass off another man's child as her husband's. Other women did it, she knew, yet she'd always been disgusted by such tales. Of course, she wouldn't have ever guessed that she would be unmarried, with child, either.

_"The world is wrong." _How many times had she heard sweet, naïve, confounded Much say that? It was too horrible to think of him dead as well!

"Yes," she agreed, her voice catching in her throat.

_There will be no going back now. _

_"You don't have to do this."_

_"England needs us."_

There _was _an "us" after all, she realized. As long as Robin's child lived, there would always be an "us."

And not only that, but Robin would always be in her heart, and her thoughts.

What was the greater wrong? Deceiving Guy and letting her child, if indeed it was a boy as she somehow knew he was, grow up and one day inherit the home and lands that were rightfully his, or say nothing and let the sheriff kill the king, and then, take her chances on Guy's mercy, when he discovered with his own eyes that she was pregnant?

"There is more than friendship between us," she said at last, making up her mind.

She had no idea, muffled as she next found herself against his chest, of the anger, the suspicion he'd held against her, when he'd entered her room. He'd come to demand answers, yet one solitary tear, shed for Much, had wiped all his fury away.

But not quite all of his suspicion.

Releasing her from his tight embrace, Guy flung Marian aside. Her hands flew protectively to her belly, as she stumbled across the room. She hoped Guy did not notice.

"I need answers, Marian," Guy told her, dramatically. "I need to know. What exactly were you planning on telling me, on our wedding night?"

Marian went pale. How could he know she wasn't a virgin? She hadn't even thought up a lie for that, not wanting to think about her wedding night with Guy, in her plans to marry him.

Thankfully, he continued his line of questioning, clearing up her misunderstanding.

"How were you planning on explaining the scar I gave you, as the Nightwatchman?"

"You mean, when we were being married, at Locksley?" she asked, relieved that he only referred to the past, and not the future. "I was hoping you would forgive me, once we were married. That was...that was one of the reasons I left you at the altar, Guy."

_Another lie. _Her scar had not entered into her punching him and running away.

"Was it?" he asked. "Hood's runt said something about your heart, belonging to another."

It was hard for him to speak those words, voicing aloud his dread, his secret fear. But now that he'd said them, he only felt emptiness.

She looked emotional, as emotional as she'd looked that day.

"No," she answered. "I meant what I had said. Do you remember? I answered him, 'my heart belongs here.' It still does, Guy."

His own heart should have leapt to life at her words, but somehow, it didn't move a muscle. After all her lies, it was cold against her. Dead. As dead as Robin Hood.

That thought made his heart skip, and leap about for joy. Yet she, in all her perfect, enticing, ethereal beauty, did nothing to move him.

"And yet, you hit me, and ran away. Shamed me. Humiliated me. Why?"

"I learned it was not the king returned home, but an imposter. You had lied to me. My father was in danger."

"Your father," he repeated, sneeringly, growing more and more angry as he relived his humiliation and disappointment. "You always used your father as an excuse, didn't you?"

_"Why do you always use your father as an excuse?"_

Again, Robin's voice, his words flung out in desperation that night outside her house, shortly before the wedding Guy had just mentioned.

_I should have run away with you then! But no, I couldn't. My father was not an excuse. I had to protect him! _

"What do you mean, an 'excuse,' Guy?"

"How did you protect him? As I recall, Hood was the one who saved his life. Explain that to me, if you can."

"I cannot. All I know is, I found a horse, rode to Nottingham in time to see Robin...Hood tie up the sheriff, while one of his men announced, before I could, that the so called king was an imposter. My father was safe, unlike some of the less fortunate nobles, whom the sheriff had already slain."

"They were the sheriff's enemies. They deserved to die."

"I am the sheriff's enemy, as you know. Do I deserve death, as well?"

"That's for the sheriff to decide."

"Guy! A few days ago, you assured me, you wouldn't let him kill me. What has changed?"

Guy refused to give her an answer. He was conflicted still, in his feelings for her.

She was beautiful, more lovely and more desirable than any woman he'd ever cast eyes on. She was still the marriage prize he coveted. And yet, he couldn't deny that she had betrayed him. Part of him now despised her, and any love he thought he'd born toward her, was buried.

He wanted her still, and he'd have her, he vowed. But she was past hurting him.

It felt good to be free. Once again, he was master of his own heart. He was master of her!

"Don't worry, Marian," he told her, coolly. "I, unlike you, will not go back on my promise. You're safe."

"Thank you," she said, meaning it.

The time had come. She couldn't put it off any longer.

"Guy," she began, haltingly. "I need to tell you something. I need you to...I want you to know, that I will willingly, give you-"

"Get some sleep," he told her, cutting her off, before turning on his heel and climbing the stairs.


	10. Chapter 10

Months ago, when the sheriff was preparing for the German booby's visit, Guy had flung a coin over a gambling table and sneeringly told Marian to "fetch." And now, bringing her a bowl of the sheriff's table scraps, his attitude wasn't much kinder as he sneered, "Food. You should eat."

No question, his feelings toward her had recently changed. Perhaps they'd been changing, ever since his discovery that she had betrayed him as the Nightwatchman. But, no. There was even more to his lack of feeling than that, though he couldn't pinpoint what had caused his heart to grow so cold.

She, tense, determined, and resolved to let nothing stop her this time, ignored the food he'd brought her.

_Just as you ignored all the gifts I spent money on, for you. Just as you ignored my heart!_

"Guy," she began, pitching her voice low so that the sheriff could not hear, "now that Robin's dead, you are the King's last hope."

_Robin? You're not even trying to cover your tongue. You must be really desperate. Good._

"You are a decent man, Guy, and not a killer."

A barb shot through him, but he pushed through it. _I have to kill! I have to be strong, to overpower the weak! I was forced into it, when my lands, my inheritance, were ripped from me!_

"If you do this, the king will reward you. And...and I will reward you."

Now he grew interested. What could she mean? Intensity still burned hotly, yet her manner grew deathly calm, as if she was preparing to breathe her final breath, laying herself on the altar to be sacrificed.

"What do you suggest?" he asked, his voice as low as hers, not wanting the sheriff to overhear them any more than she did.

Her beautiful, clear blue eyes burned with intensity. She paused a moment, drew a breath, then said, "Kill the sheriff."

Guy put a finger to his lips, then stared down at her, frozen at her suggestion.

"If you save the king," she continued, no longer needing to keep her voice low, for she had to force out her next halting words, "I will willingly give you my hand."

Their eyes held. He tried to search hers, not knowing how to feel.

He'd waited for her for so long, thirsted for her, and now, she was his for the taking. Yet it was a disappointing and hollow victory.

She only offered herself on her conditions...impossible conditions. What was it she had just said? _"You are a decent man, Guy, and not a killer." _Yet she was asking him to kill!

Killing came easy. It was rewarding, an act that proved his superiority and power over another. And wouldn't it feel good to seize that power, and wield it over Vaisey?

Images of the sheriff's many acts of humiliation toward him, disgusting acts, flooded Guy's mind. Marian's proposal interested him on several levels. And yet, he hated her for proposing it.

Once again, she was trying to be master over him...Marian, a woman! She dared to offer herself, but only on her conditions!

He wouldn't give her an answer. Let her stew, tortured while _she _waited. It would be nothing compared to the tortures she'd put him through, waiting for her.

Without speaking a word, Guy turned on his heel, leaving Marian alone.

...

It was done. She'd finally made him the offer she felt certain would save the King's life.

"I'm sorry, Robin," she whispered, leaning back to rest on her bed. "I will never stop loving you."

Voices in the street outside her barred window only drew a smattering of her attention. She'd given up listening to them, wishing she'd learned Arabic from Djaq, or even from Robin! But she couldn't quite dismiss the sounds now.

The words, muffled and indistinct, almost seemed to speak her name. Even stronger, the voices sounded all too familiar, especially the second one.

She heard his voice so many times lately...in her dreams, and in her head while awake, that she only shook her head now, dismissing it.

She would not allow herself to lose her mind. She would not accept what she believed she was hearing.

"ROBIN!"

A hushed call, yet it brought Marian to her feet. With pounding heart, she rushed to her window, only to be pulled back by her chains.

Struggling, she stood as close as she could, searching out to see who had spoken in the street. But there was no one there anymore.

"Oh, great, Marian," she said, bitterly, returning to her bed. "Robin's dead."

She had to give up hoping. Hope, bringing nothing but disappointment, was for fools. She needed to grow up, and accept her lot in life.

_"You're dreamers, both of you."_

"No, Father, I'm not. Not without Robin."

_"It's good to dream."_

A sob choked her, but she was past crying. "Yes, it is," she thought sadly.

Hope was not all dead, after all. Lovingly, she laid her hands over her belly, as if to cuddle her child.


	11. Chapter 11

A knock on the sheriff's door brought Marian to her feet again, as she struggled to make out the indistinct, muffled voices above.

This was the second visitor the sheriff had received tonight...no, make that the third. Marian was sure she'd heard two male voices arrive, just before Guy brought her a bowl of food. They had not left yet, and a third was here! What was happening?

Guy's voice exploded in shock and anger, only to be silenced by the sheriff.

It was impossible to hear, yet Marian knew something important was happening.

The sheriff's plan to kill King Richard must be progressing rapidly, Marian believed, every nerve in her body tense. Yet all was not hopeless.

Guy would do what she'd asked, she was certain. He might need more prodding, but he would not forgo her offer.

"He's right," she realized, looking at the unappetizing bowl of food he'd brought her. "I do need to eat."

She mustn't neglect her health. Robin's baby needed her to stay well.

Robin! What a wonderful father he would have made! He adored children, and had such a marvelous way with them!

But what kind of father would Guy be?

Much had told her that the baby Robin had found in the forest...Seth, was Gisbourne's unwanted son. He'd also told her that Guy had disposed of Seth, leaving him alone in the woods to die, while lying to the mother that he was paying for the child's keep at Ripley Convent. Marian refused to believe that, but even so...!

"No, I mustn't think of it. First things first."

The future of England depended on her not going back on her promise.

...

Robin Hood alive? And here, in Acre? NO!

"That's impossible!" Guy burst out.

The sheriff silenced him, keeping a cool head in this crisis. Indeed, Guy detected a glint of excitement in Vaisey, learning the horrible news.

Vaisey grew more and more excited, coming up with a new, devious plan. "We shall get Robin Hood to kill King Richard!" he announced, biting his fist in his excitement.

Guy knew that the sheriff had been thrilled to believe Hood dead at last, yet had lately grown bored, missing him. Vaisey had always secretly lusted after Hood's body, but he lusted to spill his blood even more, delighting in thinking up excruciating methods to kill him. And when he believed him gone for good, he missed him, as if he'd lost his favorite plaything.

Now that he had it back, he was thrilled. But, of course, that wouldn't stop him for trying to kill Hood again.

Considering this, another thought flashed through Guy's mind. Marian!

He wanted her again, with all the burning intensity he'd felt before.

_"I shall think about you," _he'd once gloated, sneering proudly at Hood, _"when I take her to the marriage bed."_

Guy hadn't realized how tightly his yearning to possess her was tied to his desire to triumph over Hood.

Besides her qualities of nobility, purity, and beauty, the fact that she had once been Robin of Locksley's beloved and betrothed, had caused him, Sir Guy of Gisbourne, to pursue her. Later, he found himself besotted by her, and he longed to please her. Those feelings, so unusual to him, had gone away when she'd humiliated him by leaving him at the altar, but they'd all come back, stronger than ever. She had been the only thing that made Nottingham bearable.

But lately, with all her betrayals, and lacking the added attraction of being able to rub Hood's nose in the fact that he would be the man bedding her, Guy had found his heart grow cold. Not his body. He still burned for her, though not nearly as fiercely as he had.

But now! Hood was alive, damn him, and Gisbourne discovered he loved Marian again.

She would be his, he vowed. If he acted on her suggestion and killed the sheriff, she would willingly be his bride, his Lady Gisbourne, the mother of his heirs. He, Sir Guy of Gisbourne, would be the man who saved King Richard, not beastly Robin Hood. Guy would have power and position, and he would also have Marian.

Should he do it? It was tempting. But what would happen to Hood then?

The sheriff, if Guy didn't kill him, would kill Hood, with Prince John's blessing. They were so close to killing the king, and gaining everything they'd schemed for.

But Marian! Guy's loins burned for her.

What should he decide to do? He was not certain. He only knew he cursed Robin Hood, and longed to send him to hell.


	12. Chapter 12

Nassir wanted to spit and lash out at the Christian dogs who were manhandling him, prodding and pushing him toward the King of England's tent. He hated all infidels, even James, the Black Knight who posed as a Templar. He would need to bathe after this, being touched by these unclean pigs. All the same, Nassir was glad to see James among the others, knowing he had a fellow conspirator close by.

"Leave us," the huge, golden-haired warrior commanded his knights. "I admire Aristotle," he mentioned, splashing water on his face, then revealing himself King by placing a golden circlet on his brow.

"I prefer Plato," Nassir snarled, hating this invader, the legendary Malek Ric who could make Salah al-Din's bravest soldiers quake with fear.

The interview continued, with no love lost on either side.

Richard did not trust this weasel-like little man, a man clearly with no honor. Saladin, although the enemy, was an honorable and noble foe. Why would he employ such a man to be his messenger?

The stranger held Saladin's Royal Seal, and, even more surprising, he knew the password. He spoke of Saladin wanting to make peace, which had been Richard's driving goal for some time now. And after Richard agreed to meet Saladin alone in the desert, the Saracen began speaking about a "gift."

"The gift of Life," he snarled, pure hatred seeping through his oily tone. "There are men in your country who want to kill you."

"I already know about the Black Knights, and I will deal with them when I return."

Richard did indeed know, and it ate at him, knowing that his brother Johnny plotted with King Philippe of France to steal his kingdom, dividing it up between themselves, piece by piece. He also knew, thanks to a message he'd received from Robin of Locksley, that a group of unscrupulous, power-hungry men, led by the vicious Sheriff of Nottingham, were wrecking havoc among his people, and planned to kill him when he arrived home.

The messenger's next, gloating words, surprised the king. "The Black Knights have recruited your most loyal servant, a man you'd trust with your life. He travels with a Saracen woman. He will offer to protect you, and when your guard is down, he will slit your throat."

Richard was speechless. What the man said was implausible, yet Richard knew not to assume anything. If it were true, how would Saladin know of the plot? If he somehow did, he would likely warn Richard, for the two opponents held each other in high esteem. Believing the messenger's departing story a lie, Richard knew he must not completely dismiss it, but should remain on his guard.

So, if the far fetched story happened to be true, who would that "most loyal servant" be? Andre de Chauvigny, his cousin on his mother's side, and very best friend? Impossible. They were closer than brothers, and besides, Andre never set foot in England, complaining of bad weather, worse wine, and piously dull women.

Who else then? Guillaume de Longchamp, Richard's Chancellor, in charge of ruling England while Richard was away? Unlikely, though possible. Richard no longer trusted the small, crippled man who'd also served his father, King Henry. He'd proved weak against John's mad assaults and political maneuverings. But then, as Bishop of Ely, what would he be doing, travelling with a "Saracen woman?"

"A Saracen woman..." Another, completely improbable thought, flashed through Richard's mind.

Surely not Robin!

Robin, without doubt, was his "most loyal servant, a man he'd trust with his life." And Robin, having lived and fought among the Saracens, could indeed have forged a relationship with a Saracen woman.

Richard recalled what he considered Robin's one weakness...his ability to fall completely in love. For years, Robin was utterly smitten by the then Sheriff of Nottingham's daughter, his betrothed. In fact, that same love had almost torn him away from his duty to follow his King on Crusade, even while Robin longed to go! Richard recalled a conversation he'd had with Robin, listening impatiently to the youth voice his concerns at leaving the Sheriff's daughter so close to their upcoming nuptials.

The young woman had broken the engagement, Richard remembered, after Robin had told her he was going to war. Had young Lord Locksley, whose heart was so susceptible to the fair sex, formed an attachment with a Saracen woman, while in Outremer? Richard recalled no such woman.

Yet Robin might have met her while recovering from his near fatal wound, the wound off a Saracen attacker who'd tried to murder both Robin and himself, King Richard. Afterwards, Richard had led his army south, leaving Robin in a hospital in Acre and ordering him to return home to completely convalesce. Had there been a woman who'd perhaps helped to nurse him, then accompanied him home, luring him with love and sex to betray his king? Not Robin!

The entire suggestion, formed on that oily snake's lips, was ridiculous. Richard believed no word of it. Yet he _would_ make peace with Saladin, he determined, as Carter reentered his tent, cautioning him against the meeting.

"Sometimes peace requires more bravery than war," he answered.

...

The beds in Bassam's house were clean and comfortable...luxurious even, yet Robin couldn't sleep.

Bassam had offered to show them the King's camp in the morning, for which Robin was grateful. But thoughts of Marian disturbed his rest.

"I will find you, my love," he vowed quietly, gazing out the window, knowing that she slept somewhere within the same city.

He'd longed to save her first, yet hadn't known where to begin looking. At least he believed her safe, for now. While the King still lived, he believed the sheriff wouldn't harm her, keeping her as a lure to hold Gisbourne's loyalty.

"I never thought I'd say it, but thank God Gisbourne loves you," he whispered wryly, an ironic smile turning up the corners of his mouth.

All the same, he needed to free his love soon. Allan had told him how the sheriff had treated Marian on the way to Portsmouth...how he'd chained her up in the stables overnight, at the Road to Portsmouth Inn. Thinking of it made Robin so angry, he could taste blood.

But anger wouldn't help him now. He needed sleep. Tomorrow he would kneel before his beloved, revered King, and he needed to be sharp and well rested, prepared to protect him. He expected to face Gisbourne in hand-to-hand combat, and except for the fact that it would probably lead to him having to kill again, he actually looked forward to it.

"Goodnight, my love," he whispered to the rooftops, knowing she slept under one of them, and aching for her. "Forgive me for what I have to do, and forgive me more, if I enjoy it."


	13. Chapter 13

Sir Guy of Gisbourne strode darkly through the busy marketplace, a veritable storm cloud brewing in the brilliant Acre sunshine, cursing Robin Hood with every step.

Everything angered Guy today...the glaring sunlight, the odor of exotic spices, the clacking talk he couldn't understand, the dark eyes staring distrustfully as he passed. "Get out of my way!" he roared, turning over a table laden with jewel-toned silks, then trodding over them, kicking them out of his way.

Small children whimpered and hid their faces in their mother's skirts. Their fear somewhat rubbed balm on Gisbourne's mood, but it would take more than frightening children to lighten his fury.

Hood was alive, having accomplished the impossible once again, cheating certain death! If one hundred of the sheriff's finest mercenaries, trapping and surrounding Hood in a Nettlestone barn, couldn't kill him, then who could? Locksley must be charmed, damn him, to survive so many attacks!

"You should have died the night I shoved _this_ through your vitals," Guy sneered, waving his sword before him as he walked, all the better to frighten Saracens out of his path. "I left you for dead, but then...you seemed to spring back to life, bleeding from my wound in your side, to protect your King! But not this time, Hood! Not this time."

Guy still couldn't decide whether he would do what Marian had suggested, and kill the sheriff. Most of him leaned against her rash plan, believing firmly that the sheriff was his pathway to power and position. But the offer of her "willingly" giving him her hand tempted him sorely, especially now that he knew that Hood was alive.

"She _will _be Lady Gisbourne," he swore, picturing with relish both the challenge and despair in Hood's eyes. "I will take her to the marriage bed, and she will bear me sons."

At all costs, Gisbourne suddenly realized, Marian mustn't learn that Hood had survived!

Would it make a difference to her? Worse yet, would she retract her offer? That thought made Guy want her even more.

He had to see her, if only to make certain she knew nothing about Hood.

In spite of the heat from the noonday sun beating down upon his black leather, Guy ran the rest of the way to the sheriff's house.

...

Marian, anxious for the King's life, immediately asked Guy the moment he entered her room, "Have you thought about what I said?"

Seeing her so tightly wound like a coiled spring, Guy grew strangely calm, becoming master of himself and the situation again. His only response was to place a finger to his lips, warning her to lower her volume.

"This is your chance," she whispered, urgently. "Your last chance to be a good man."

Guy stared down at her, struck by how little she knew him.

She'd once complained to him...accused him, really, of not knowing her. "_This is who I am," _she'd desperately stated, propping herself up from the hard stone castle floor where he'd flung her. _"The Nightwatchman...everything! You claim to love me, yet you don't know me!"_

_You don't know_ _me_, _either, _he realized, hurt by the huge gulf between them. _Do you really think I care about being good?_

He did not.

Sometimes, late at night, he worried over the thought of hellfire that must surely await him when he died. He'd committed sins...grave sins so momentous, no amount of prayers ordered from the Confessional would absolve him. Guy feared Death because of what he could expect in the afterlife, which, unlike the sheriff, he firmly believed existed. But he had no desire at all to change his ways, and become "good."

He did desire her, however. Seeing how beautiful she looked, with her underlying, burning passion to save the King, while knowing that Hood also desired her, Guy began thinking thoughts that were anything but "good."

Pushing those thoughts that fired his loins quickly aside, he tried to focus on others.

_You will save me from my sins,_ he mused, not taking his eyes off her loveliness. _As Lady Gisbourne, as my wife, the Holy Mother Church and Heaven will reguard us as One. You, so good, so pure, will absolve me. I will obtain Heaven by being united with you, for eternity. For where you go, there I will follow. You are mine, or God help me, I will make you mine._

He didn't answer her, but turned and climbed the stairs to meet the sheriff, fuelled by his yearnings, and knowing at last what he would do.


	14. Chapter 14

Standing on tiptoe, Marian scarcely dared breathe as she strained to hear what was happening above her.

Even now, Guy might be upstairs killing the sheriff, effectively ending the threat to King Richard's life, as well as Prince John's attempt to steal England's throne. And Marian, having longed for the gruesome event throughout her captivity, now could feel nothing but numbness.

If Guy followed through and did as she'd begged, the King would be safe, but she'd be compelled to marry Gisbourne, and that thought was something she hadn't been willing to face.

As she'd commented to her father the other time she'd felt forced to marry Guy, there were worse things in Heaven and Earth than marrying a man she didn't love. Noble women did it all the time; it was their lot in life. Yet how many were forced to marry such a brutal, cruel, humorless husband? And how many were forced to survive their marriages by living a life of constant lies, to protect themselves and their children?

_"If you save the King," _she had said to Guy, _"I will willingly give you my hand." _Willingly!

She did not want to do this...she _had_ to. She would rather die than marry Guy of Gisbourne, the man she'd seen slap her father across his face, torch her house, brutalize the good people of Locksley, and, most horrible of all, strive to kill Robin.

There had been a brief time during the engagement he'd forced on her, when she'd felt the stirrings of physical attraction toward him. He was, after all...well, there was no denying his outward appeal. Angry at Robin, she'd struggled to deny her true feelings, welcoming any stirrings for the man she must wed. But those feelings had died long ago. How could they survive in the face of the cruel, brutal acts she'd watched him commit, especially compared to her true, genuine feelings of love toward another? Even when she'd kissed Guy, that day in the castle to save Robin's life, she'd felt nothing but disgust...disgust for his overwhelming desire, and disgust at herself, for deceiving him.

His overwhelming desire! She shut her eyes, blocking out the thought of Guy, as he put it, "taking her to the marriage bed." She did not want him to touch her!

She knew desire now. She'd experienced it...burning, unquenchable desire coupled with true, abiding love. It had been sheer bliss, loving Robin so intimately. How could she bear it, letting Guy...?

She had to. For those loving, burning moments she'd spent with Robin had created the child growing within her, the child she now must protect, by lying to Guy that it was his.

It was wrong. She felt sorry for Guy...sorry for herself. A lifetime of deception lay ahead of them. But what choice did she have?

"You are worth it," she murmured quietly, laying a hand over the tiny swell on her belly.

As she'd done before when about to marry Guy, she set her mind to trying to be brave, making the best of her situation.

"Guy's doing what is right," she reminded herself, truly believing that he would not fail her.

Somewhere, buried deep within the man, there must be good. He was a damaged creature, a soul that needed saving, but she'd seen flashes of good, now and then. Those flashes were what she needed to think about, not his brutal acts of violence.

She remembered him surprising her by gently brushing the hair back from her face and kissing her cheek. He'd seemed so caring! That was a thought she needed to cling to, to help herself through this. When was it? Oh, yes...when he'd urged her to flee, to protect herself from Winchester.

But then, just moments later, he'd let her down. She remembered him standing by, watching, a pained expression on his face, while the sheriff's guards locked her wrists in irons, to deliver her to Winchester. Irons! Just as Guy allowed her to be clamped in irons now...irons that rubbed the skin on her wrists and ankles raw.

No. She needed to recall the good in him. There was his friendship toward...what was the man's name? Guy's half brother...Lambert, that was it! Guy cared for him. He'd almost gone along with her plan to..._almost. _That word was key. _"I suppose I'll have to content myself with disappointment," _she had told Guy bitterly, furious at him for letting the sheriff kill the man, when he so easily could have saved him.

Would he do the same now, and disappoint her? No. Guy would kill the sheriff, surely!

She called to mind his more recent acts of goodness, acts that had taken her breath away. The first was when he'd returned to Nottingham to fight alongside its people, facing almost certain death when Prince John's army threatened to burn the town to the ground. That day proved Guy's feelings for her...genuine feelings! That was his best moment so far. But afterward, what? He'd disappointed her again, displacing the people of Locksley, people he was supposed to care for, not caring whether they starved to death!

_Stop it! Think about the time he saved you from hanging!_

He'd learned she was the Nightwatchman, yet he'd hidden it from the sheriff. Together with Allan, he'd fooled the sheriff into thinking the Nightwatchman had escaped, thereby saving her life. She'd felt such warmth and gratitude toward him that evening, such friendship! But even that did not last.

_"I recently discovered that Marian was the Nightwatchman." _Tied to a chair, her wrists and ankles bound, Marian could only listen while Guy betrayed her to the sheriff.

"And that is the reason I'm here," she said, sighing, a cold knot forming in her stomach.

Every time Guy'd been forced to choose between goodness and the sheriff, he'd chosen Vaisey!

"Not this time," she told herself, stubbornly refusing to believe the truth. "And once away from the sheriff's influence, Guy can become a good man, a good man like...!"

Robin! No. No one could be like him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, picturing the man she would always love.

She mustn't think of Robin again, lest she break down and cry.


	15. Chapter 15

Filled with loathing, Guy towered over the bald little man on his knees before him, whose black-clad back invited him to do as Marian had begged, and slay him.

It would be so easy. One stab thrust, and then the rewarding sight and sound of Death. Complete, indisputable victory, proving beyond all doubt who was the stronger man!

For a moment, Guy visualized his deceased father in Vaisey's place, another man who'd made it his habit to belittle and abuse him.

_"You pathetic excuse for a son!" His father, drunk again, slapped Guy so hard across his face, he sent the small boy sprawling. "Isabella's got bigger balls than you! Eleven years old, and you're still wetting the bed? Baby!_ _Hang Baby Guy's bedclothes out his window, so everyone will know he soils his bed! The peasants will laugh at you, Boy. You don't deserve to be my heir. Maybe I'll pass you up, and leave everything to your sister."_

That memory faded, replaced by a quick succession of abuses handed down to him by the sheriff. Mocking, belittling words and actions, one moment lifting him to a position of esteem and respect, only to be followed by snide, viperous, and sometimes public put-downs. And of course, the ultimate humiliation and control...the hideous things Vaisey had done to him in the dark, done regularly when Guy had been a green and desperate youth; now, thankfully, done only on rare occasions.

For those reasons alone, Guy longed to kill him. His hand, on his sword handle, itched to unsheathe the weapon and commit the deed.

But, of course, he wouldn't.

They were so close to achieving everything they'd worked for! Even with Hood alive and here in the Holy Land, they would not fail. And all because the ugly, despicable, base-born man on his knees, on his knees though certainly NOT praying, possessed a brilliant, devious mind with no conscience or scruples to stop him.

Guy needed him, and he'd be damned before he let any woman, even _Her, _tell him what to do!

"Nice chat with Marian?"

Vaisey had heard him, or somehow sensed his presence behind him.

"She wants me to kill you."

A quick intake of breath, though the voice remained oily calm, almost as if he'd been expecting to hear those words. And then, very deliberately, the voice asked, "And are you going to?"

Guy waited a moment before answering, not because he was undecided, but because he was savoring this rare moment of power over the little man, enjoying the other's fear.

"No," he answered at last, lowering his hand to his thigh.

"What was her plan?"

"That I would kill you, and she would vouch for me. I'd still have power, but I'd also have..."

Guy felt angry, revealing her plan. His desire for her burned so hotly, that it irked him to throw her offer aside.

Yet how dare she offer herself, only on her conditions? Her wilfulness infuriated him, as it had always done. She needed to learn, once and for all, what kind of a man he was. She needed to learn who was master, and be tamed!

"Marian," the sheriff continued, finishing Guy's thoughts. "Yet you chose me."

"My lord, I have proven my loyalty. I will still have Marian. When we return to England, I will take her by force."

"My dear boy, I'll sing at your wedding!" Vaisey stood and spun around, and now it was Guy's turn to gasp, seeing for the first time the lethally sharp dagger the sheriff held in his stubby-fingered fist.

...

Striding purposefully through the King's camp, Robin broke out into a grin, listening to Much chatter, "Good times. Well, not good. Death, destruction, and all that. Still...! Ut prosim!"

Robin was pleased...relieved to have reached King Richard's camp before the sheriff. It wouldn't be easy, but all would go well from here on out. He would protect the King, defeat the sheriff and Gisbourne, and then...

_I will find you, my love._

He had no doubt that Marian was alive and well, hidden somewhere in Acre. It wouldn't be much longer, and they could begin enjoying the life, the love, that were always meant to be theirs.

"Carter!"

Robin had been surprised not to recognize more Crusaders. Few men he had fought alongside remained, and he was glad to embrace one friend he recognized. "I thought you'd given up fighting!"

"I'm still fighting," Carter answered, shaking Much's hand, "but for peace."

As Carter led him to the King's tent, Robin didn't notice that his men, other than Much, held back.

None of the others were comfortable here.

Djaq, whose twin brother had died in battle, killed by Christian Crusaders, felt especially uneasy. These soldiers were her people's enemies, invaders of their lands. Brave as she was, and loyal to Robin who wholeheartedly deserved her following, she couldn't continue on. She stopped walking, returning the curious glances of the Crusaders with fierce, defiant eyes.

"What's wrong?" Will asked, immediately feeling her distress.

"I do not like this place."

"I don't like it, either."

Looking into Will's supportive eyes, Djaq felt her tension ease. "But he is your King, Will Scarlet."

"A King who's forgotten his people. I'd rather be home, helping the poor. But I'm here for Robin. And for you."

"For me?"

"You're home. It means so much to me, meeting Bassam, seeing where you lived before."

"I loved having Bassam meet you. And I love being home...with you."

Still shy in their newly discovered love, the young couple barely noticed the bustle around them, as they stood gazing into one another's eyes.

"Come on," Djaq realized, feeling easy in her mind again. "We need to find Robin."

Little John and Allan also hung back, unhappy at being in the army camp. Born simple peasants as was Will, though, as Robin had come to learn, anything but simple men, they never expected to be thousands of miles from home, about to stand face to face with their King, the legendary Coeur de Lion! Little John, homesick for England, wanted to face the sheriff and Gisbourne as soon as possible, rescue Marian, and end England's suffering forever. Allan's feelings were more conflicted.

He did not share Robin's love for his King and country. After all, what had they ever done for him? He wasn't born a lord with a silver spoon in his mouth! But he did love Robin, and the "lads," and he'd follow them into Hell, now that he was back. But facing the sheriff and Giz again? Unlike Little John, Allan could only feel his stomach twist all in knots at the thought of that battle.

Giz would not let his "betrayal" go unpunished. It would be personal between them, nearly as personal as it had always been between Giz and Robin.

It'd be alright, though. As they'd all learned, the worst part of battle was the waiting beforehand. Not bein' funny, but once the fighting started, courage and self-protection took over.

The group of four somehow managed to find Robin and Much at last, standing within a sumptuous tent. The tent flaps blew with the desert breezes, revealing not only their two friends, but Carter, an older Templar, and a huge, golden, lion of a man, who could only be Queen Eleanor's favorite son, King Richard. Djaq lifted her face to look at him, curious about the one who made Sala hadin's bravest soldiers quake with fear, and Allan cocked a smirk, wondering why the King stared back at the pretty Saracen so.

"Robin!" they heard the King say, his voice edged with warning and disappointment.

"Your Majesty?"

"Of all the men who served me, you are the one I loved most of all!"

"And I have treasured that."

Robin, sincerely confused, sought to understand this shift in King Richard's attitude.

The King's famous Angevin temper bubbled to the surface.

_She's a beauty, your Saracen woman. Of course she would be. They say even a hero has his weakness, but I expected better of you!_

"You are a renowned marksman with the bow, are you not? Then why did you travel all the way here to defeat my enemies, when you could have simply aimed an arrow in Nottingham?"

Much, seeing the look on Robin's face, rushed to his defense. "Your Majesty, it wasn't that simple! He couldn't just-"

CRACK! The older, bearded Templar slapped Much across his cheek, silencing him, while Robin and his gang looked on, confused and bewildered.

"You have not come here to protect me," the King continued, his voice carrying throughout the camp. "You have come here to murder your King!"


	16. Chapter 16

The fierce, desert sun beat down so glaringly, Marian sympathized with the horse forced to carry her over the seemingly never-ending stretches of sand. A beautiful stallion who ought to be racing free, the Arabian could do no more than plod slowly through the intense heat, fulfilling the Sheriff of Nottingham's will.

_We're alike in that regard,_ Marian thought, longing to dig her heels into the horse's ribs and send him racing over the dunes.

Her wrists were bound, yet she was a skilled enough horsewoman to keep her seat in the saddle, if only her horse could gallop as quickly as her mind was racing.

_Escape, find the King, defeat the sheriff, and..._

But, no. As greatly as her mind rebelled at riding quietly alongside the sheriff and the Black Knight posing as a Templar, Marian would attempt no escape.

_"Robin Hood did not die in Nottingham, did you know that?"_ the sheriff had gloated, stunning her after her severe disappointment over Guy's choices. "_Well, just as a treat, you can die together. Oh, this is good!"_

Robin, alive, restored to her! She had to see him for herself, even if it meant dying with him! Yet somehow, knowing he still lived, Marian felt there was hope that they might see this through.

_"Together, we're stronger."_

Excitement bubbled inside her and her heart swelled, remembering the sound of his voice and the look in his eyes when he'd said that. Everything about his proposal that day in the forest had thrilled her, even if she couldn't help but find him amusing, choosing that particular place and moment to make it. Amusing, yet endearing, too.

Longing to see the man she loved, the man she'd grieved so achingly for, Marian wasted very little thought on Guy, who'd once again disappointed her by choosing the sheriff and his evil plans over her offer of her hand.

_I'm glad,_ she thought bitterly, hating him. _Not having to marry you was my real escape._

What if Guy had done as she'd begged? What if he'd killed the sheriff, and she'd been forced to marry him, only to later learn that Robin was still alive? The dreadful thought made her shudder, despite the blazing desert heat.

It was better this way. She would not be forced to hurt her beloved, and live a life of deception with Gisbourne. And she was not going to her death as meekly as she appeared.

She had no idea how, but she truly believed that Robin, who'd cheated Death again and again, would somehow do it again, and together, along with his men, they would save the King.

And then, slowly riding over the crest of a hill-like dune, she saw him.

"Oh, this is good!" the sheriff crowed, following her on his own horse. "Look at them, Missy! Lined up on poles, like a freshly planted vineyard! But in this heat, they'll turn into raisins instead of grapes! Oh, yes! So much for your beloved King's mercy, hmm? And Hood! Front and center! Surrounded by his...what's this?"

Marian knew exactly what had startled the sheriff. She, too, was surprised to see Allan.

_You did it,_ she thought proudly. _You reached him, in time to save him! Thank you! _

But then, her thoughts were filled with regret. _No, you can't die now. Not after what you did. Robin won't let you. I won't let you._

They looked so vulnerable, so helpless, being baked by the sun, hanging by their wrists to poles. Escape seemed impossible.

Marian's heart fell, yet it didn't stay down for long. Reuniting with Robin made it beat so strongly, she rose to a level above caring about Life and Death.

Love. Love for Robin of Locksley swelled within her, making her joyous in spite of their dreadful circumstances. She barely listened as the sheriff recovered himself, and began taunting her.

"You thought you could fool me, didn't you, Missy, hmm? Big mistake. All the time you were batting those big blue eyes at Gisbourne, you were working for another, equally luscious man! I suspected you when I heard rumors about the two of you meeting up at Bonchurch. And then, when you tried to kill me, and Guy admitted you were the Nightwatchman...! Well! All those who work with Hood, ALL OF THEM, may now share in the 'honors' his beloved King Richard has chosen to heap on him! So, Missy, are you ready to enjoy your just reward?"

"I am ready," Marian answered, sounding lofty.

"See that she doesn't escape you, James," the sheriff ordered, as the trio drew near the outlaws. "She's sly and slippery, this one! Oh, this is good!"


	17. Chapter 17

"But this one is a special one, isn't she? You were still hoping, weren't you, hmm, even after all this time, that you would end up as man and wife, back home in sunny Sherwood. Well, now you have your bride! I'd love to stay, but I don't tan well. Come along, James! We have a king to kill!"

Marian's face ached from where the sheriff had squeezed it, but her pain was nothing compared to the unrelenting, scorching heat. Already, her throat felt as dry as parchment and her skin hurt, as though it was baking. Yet somehow, even while facing a slow and painful death, Marian was happier than she'd been in weeks.

No matter what they faced, this is where she wanted to be...with Robin. The sound of his voice, the feel of his strong body leaning against her back, filled her with a tremendous sense of peace and love. And she couldn't dismiss the sheriff's words.

_Now you have your bride._

Meant as a mocking, final parting blow, those words echoed through Marian's mind, even as she reassured the man she loved that he had nothing to reproach himself for. "At least we will have died fighting."

Her heart bled for Little John, who for once couldn't be brave and stoically hide his longing for his lost wife and son. Her heart bled for all of them.

This small group of brave, loyal followers...she could hardly believe she'd originally rolled her eyes at the mere thought of them.

Much, whom she'd known since childhood...Much, who infuriated her with his endless blunders...was there ever such a true, loyal, courageous friend? But for Robin, Much would have chosen to lead a placid, peaceful life. But because he loved Robin so dearly, he sacrificed everything, courting danger while risking death.

And Little John, a real outlaw when Robin met him, a huge, rough-looking man who rarely spoke, how could Marian had known he possessed a tender, caring heart?

_It's no the here nor there, _Marian remembered him saying, surprised at finding herself understood and comforted by a man she believed had no sensitivity. _It's your father. You miss your father._

She wished now that she could comfort him, for he, facing death, admitted how much he was missing his family.

Djaq...certainly not a misfit here, but in England...! A Saracen, not to mention a woman, fighting to save a country that was not hers! Marian knew her to be brilliant, with the manners of a lady, a young woman who chose to stay among Robin's men when she had been an embittered slave. She'd since softened, living among good, decent men, and had forged a new life for herself...a life that tragically would end within hours.

Will Scarlet...a Locksley peasant Robin rescued, who could have easily joined his family in Scarborough, chose instead to follow Robin and fight for justice. Will had found purpose, and therefore himself, living in Sherwood. Marian remembered him as he'd been before Robin returned from war...a silent, bitter youth, hopeless against the brutalities of his new lord, Guy of Gisbourne, seething inside with hatred, like Greek Fire ready to ignite.

And Allan! Allan, cocky like her Robin though not as clever, a man who claimed he fought only for himself, had done what his onetime master Guy hadn't...chosen good over evil, even at the risk to himself. Never had Marian respected Allan as much as she did this moment, even while he complained, "Not bein' funny, but it was the King of England who put us here in the first place."

"The sheriff spun him a story!" Robin, loyal to his King until the end, was quick to rush to the Lionheart's defense.

Robin, so true, so good, so noble, so _worthy._

_Now you have your bride._

Yes! With their child within her, their child who would die before he even lived a moment of life, Marian longed to declare herself, and hear the words she'd been longing to hear before she could even remember.

They were to die, but they would die united as a family. Husband, wife, and child.

"Say the words, then, Handsome."


End file.
